Turn of the Card
by Pirate-on-Fleet-Street
Summary: Davy Jones and Will sit down to play a game of cards in the Locker, five years after AWE. How out of hand will it get when one won't mind his words and they are both reminded of the ill luck of both of their situations? Not slash. PAIRINGS CHALLENGE


**In September of 2009 my friend Stutley Constable expressed an interest in writing a few oneshots with unusual pairings (ones that are not Sparrabeth or Willabeth). We decided that it would be fun to cooperate on such an undertaking. This story and eleven others are the products of that venture. We hope you will enjoy them.**

**This is my second pairing challenge story.**

**  
**Will and Davy Jones

Post AWE

"What do you want?" the younger man asked with much annoyance in his voice. The door of the shack groaned loudly as he opened it.

Will had not failed to notice the familiarity of the building from the outside. Although it was not surrounded by cloudy swamp water, he would never mistake the house for one other than Tia Dalma's.

"Company. Sit boy," Davy Jones answered and gestured to the seat across from him at an exact replica of the table Will had stabbed to splinters five years ago. The table was a much younger version of the one Will had known and was missing its many battle scars. It was not missing the piles of various rings and jewells however.

Will, who had done this countless times before, plunked himself angrily in the chair opposite Jones. "What shall it be this year? A game of blackjack? Or perhaps we should attempt to make up our own card game. We have the time," he raised his eyebrow.

Jones ignored the frustration and irritation in the man's voice and slapped a deck of cards on the table. "Let's make one up." Under the glare of Will's suspicious eyes he proceeded to deal five cards to either of them.

"So what have you been doing?" Will asked, leaning back in his chair casually. No sense being more uncomfortable than the situation forced. "I see you finally took down the jar of eyes," he smirked. "Did you get tired of looking at them all the time?"

"Got tired of _them_ watching _me_. Flip a card," Jones commanded, paying little attention to Will, squinting at the painted face of the Queen of Hearts he had turned over. He grimaced and put it face down again on the table before flipping another one over in its place.

"I'm sure they didn't much enjoy the sight either," Will said bluntly, flipping the card dealt furthest away from him face up. King of Hearts. He bit his lip and turned it back over. Jones glanced up at him and scowled.

"You just wait a few years and you might look the same," he snapped.

Will grimaced at the thought and replaced his King with a Jack. A hand snatched the card up and tore it in half with two frighteningly strong tentacles.

"No Jacks, no Hearts," Jones said angrily and collected the other nine cards back. He fanned the rest of the deck out between them expertly and picked through them quickly to eliminate the tabooed cards.

"And why do you think I would end up looking like you?" Will asked and blinked as a rough edged card hit him in the nose and another flew over his head to land in a pile of prohibited pieces. He ground his teeth and put the tip of a ringed finger to the card that had fallen in front of him and slid it off the table.

"Ten years at sea, one day on land?" Jones laughed harshly. "Do ya think anyone could keep to it?"

"Obviously you couldn't."

A beard of tentacles swung to the side as Davy Jones snapped his head up to look at the man before him.

"How much do you think she's worth?"

"More than yours was," Will said confidently and met the watery blue eyes that were narrowed at him.

"Ha," Jones nearly shouted and his eyes returned to the cards in his hands. "Any woman is worth more than her. How many _souls_ do you think yours is worth?"

"As much as her soul is worth. You can't compare any two," Will said. He had grown weary of this conversation years ago.

"Fine."

"And what of Calypso's?" The twenty six year old didn't fail to notice how Jones flinched at the aforementioned name.

"Her soul isn't even worth as much as her own soul."

"That's not what you really think," Will mused, working around the nonsensical reply he had been given.

"And why not?" it was Jones's turn to be annoyed.

"If you truly didn't care for her, then why is this the place you find yourself in now? She must have meant something to you if this is what your personal hell is."

"I think not," Jones flicked ten cards to his opponent. They slid with a whisper across the table to him. "The point is that there is no way that you will hold to the rules that she set down. They weren't made to be followed, only to be broken. You won't last another decade. And you'll pay the consequences. Especially once you have a day out of all of this boredom to go back to your wife."

"I would do it for her," Will defended himself.

"But will she give you reason to?" Jones countered.

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps your visit will not make you happy and instead you will neglect your duties out of anger or misery. Who says she'll be there waiting for you?"

"And why wouldn't she be?" Will hissed. The words he had been hoping the monster of man in front of him never mentioned again always set him off.

"Another lover." He spat the word, his Scottish accent in that particular tone making the word sound like a disease. "A Jack Sparrow perhaps," he laughed at this own cruel idea of a joke and slapped the deck of cards down in the center of the table.

Will tightened his jaw but said nothing.

"You're getting better at that one." Jones laughed. "It almost looks as if ye wouldn't care. Pick a card, highest goes first."

Will calmly lifted the top card on the deck and showed the King to the other player. "I suppose I go first then?"

"You cheated!" Davy Jones shouted and slammed his crab clawed arm on the table. The deck of cards slid apart.

"How could I have cheated? I've been here the whole time!" Will shouted back.

"No! The _card_. You cheated our game."

"Did not. There aren't any rules to cheat," Will growled.

Jones's lips quivered and his beard snapped and recoiled. "I made the rules."

"Well they aren't very good ones are they?" he paused, "what are they?" Will demanded impatiently.

"New game. Liar's dice."

"I hate that game."

"I hate you," Jones stated.

"You're acting rather childish," Will retorted.

"And you're acting rather superior."

"Compared to you, I am."

"I'm older."

"You're dead!"

"So are you."

"Not as dead as you are."

"I'm glad I killed ya!" Jones stood abruptly, shoving the table Will's way in the process. His accent became even more pronounced- if it was possible- as his temper rose.

"I'm glad I killed _you_!" Will countered as he scraped his own chair back. In the process of stepping around the table Jones hit his head off a hanging jar of sand and dirt. It looked rather familiar. In furious retaliation he swatted it down. The glass smashed into splintered shards and a great cloud of dirt rose up from the mess. Jones spluttered and Will coughed as they both stepped back a few feet.

"Isn't that the jar your heart was in for some time?" Will remarked.

"The dirt would have been much older by then. Probably all rotted and dry," Jones said and scowled at the mess that continued to pollute the room. The men stood nearly touching as they watched the cloud slowly clear away. They had momentarily forgotten their rage.

"The dirt wouldn't have rotted," Will said and continued to watch the dirt.

"Can't dirt rot?" Jones asked absently as he too watched the dirt settle back the ground.

"I have no idea," Will answered. "Why don't hearts rot? Yours must have been out for a long time in that chest. Gross, now mine's sitting where it was," his lips curled slightly.

"They do rot," Jones said, ignoring the jab at his heart.

Will snapped out of the trance and glanced up with worry at the cursed face of his sole companion. "They do?"

"Only on the inside I think. So you can't see it."

"Well that's what yours did. Mine's different," Will said. He turned his back on Jones and took his seat back. He put his feet up on the table and bit his index finger in thought.

Jones took his time in rejoining William at the table, no doubt trying to come up with words to that.

"It's probably rotted already," he offered. "Whatever did you do with it?"

"You will never know."

"And the key?"

"As if."

Davy Jones laughed and half smiled. "Fair enough. Now how about we try another game?"

"Last one," Will agreed.

Jones roughly cut the deck in half, not caring about numbers. "Just flip the top card."

The two flipped the card on the top of their disorderly stacks, Jones's being the largest of the two. Both of them sat frowning at the painted Tens looking up at them.

"Tens are out," Jones mumbled.

"Tens are out," Will nodded. They sat there staring at their cards. Will swallowed, "how about we play Liar's Dice?"

**If you enjoyed this story and wish to read the other stories  
in this challenge you can find them on my profile and on Stutley Constable's** fanfiction(dot)net/u/1963348/Stutley_Constable **(replace the dot)**

**Thank you for reading, please review :)**


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